Marshaling Enough Empathy – Chapter Twenty-Nine

"Tim!"

Looking up over his computer screen, Tim could just make out Art's hand waving him in or making some sort of obscene gesture – with Art it could be either. Tim pushed back from his desk and slid his hands into his pockets and sauntered to the Chief's office.

"Hey."

"Hey, yourself. Come in and close the door."

Tim frowned, wondering what was coming, shut the door behind him and shuffled a step or two closer.

"Sit."

He sat.

Art looked up finally, took off his reading glasses and said, "Are you sure about this?"

Tim slid his eyes to the left then back to Art. "Sure about what?"

A finger tapping on the paperwork front and center on the desk. "This. This transfer. Are you sure about this?"

Oh…that. Tim wet his lips and shrugged awkwardly, hands still in his pockets, and finally nodded.

"God, I feel like I'm talking to one of my daughters," Art sighed. "Let's hear the words."

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Okay then, 'cause all I have to do is sign here and it's a done deal." Art waited for a twitch, but none showed, so he signed. "I'm gonna miss you around here, Tim – more than just your rifle. You ever want to come back, you just say the word. I'd take you in a second." He waited again for something then continued, "The Virginia office is happy to have you. You'll be taking up duties like here. I made sure they weren't gonna stick you on court security or something. You've got too much experience for that. You can start next month."

Tim nodded again.

"Gonna see a man about a dog?"

Tim's head snapped up, he held a look with Art that opened the whole of his thoughts for reading and he wondered how Art knew.

"Dogs, actually," he corrected him, made the face. "Six."

"Six?"

"Chasing psychopaths for a living does make you a little strange."

"I knew there was something off about him. I've proof now that he's taking you on. On the other hand, you kinda suit one another."

Art set the papers aside. "I hope everything works out for you. You've earned it."

The Chief stood up and walked around and shook hands with his deputy, reached to open the door for him and paused. Tim recognized the pose, ridiculous, waited for the ridiculousness to follow.

"You might want to think hard about this, son, honestly. And I'm saying this just 'cause you're young and maybe a bit naïve." His face took on a fatherly condescension and Tim could tell that Art was having a tough time not laughing but he continued in a serious tone. "Virginia's just not as nice as Kentucky – it's common knowledge. That's where the cloning factory is for the Feebs. Not to mention you'll be that much closer to Washington. Politicians – I shudder to think."

Tim raised an eyebrow; Art chuckled.

"Are you sure I can't get you to change your mind?"

The pattern on the floor suddenly fascinated Tim; he dug his hands back into his pockets and stared at it. "You might, so I think I'll pack up early and get outta here before you start really working on it. See you Monday."

"Yeah, we'll see you Monday. You got a couple of nights to sleep on it. Maybe you'll come to your senses over the weekend."


Jack sat back behind his desk, opened both hands, looking like he was seated at the table for the last supper. "Are we having this discussion again?"

"I think it's…the third time, at least," said Will, pulled a chair closer and sat too. "I can't do this…anymore."

"But, Kentucky?"

"No one knows me in Kentucky. It's the kind of freedom I don't have here."

"That's not the entire truth, is it?"

"No. But I don't need to discuss my personal life with you."

"You do if it affects your work with me."

"I'm quitting, remember?"

"Will, don't quit. I need you here as part of the team. There will be others. The type of crime we deal with here, it isn't a sickness that can be eradicated, we can't vaccinate against it. It continually reinvents itself and resurfaces in unpredictable forms."

"And it'll continue long after I'm dead. Jack, I've never really felt part of the team and…that's not self-pity, that's…the way it has to be with what I do. Right now, I'm…all loose. I feel if just one more thing rattles me I'll fall apart. And you don't need me. The team is solid."

Jack pressed his lips tightly together, blinked a few times, weighing his words, calculating prices. "They're too solid. I need someone more fluid to track these monsters. I need you."

"No. I'm done."

"Just consider…"

"No."

A sigh, defeat. "Would you be willing to step in on occasion if we need help?"

"I don't…know. Let's…leave it at that. I can't hide from you. I'll be reachable."

Jack nodded, accepting. "When are you leaving?"

"I've already found someone to rent my place in Wolf Trap and I'm driving to Lexington tomorrow to sign the papers on a lease on a property outside of the city. Then I'll be back to pack and I'll leave as soon as I can round up my strays."

"You will stay in touch."

"I'm under the impression that I don't really have a choice."

Jack smiled. "I'm glad you're finally getting it."


Tim packed up his rifle and waved a goodbye to the range owner. He'd be back next week – one more time.

He was so familiar with the road out that he drove it too fast. He knew he shouldn't but it was fun bumping the old pickup over the pot holes and skidding it through the corners. He made the last turn before the highway and slammed on the brakes, barely holding the road as the tires slipped over the dry dirt and gravel. The cloud of dust settled and Tim stared at the Volvo parked where no Swedish car had a right to be unless it was an eighteen-wheeler cab taking a trailer-load of beer or gas and a wrong turn to the truck stop at the other end. This Volvo, however, was a station-wagon.

He got out and walked over. Will rolled down the window.

"What the fuck?"

"I took one look at the road…and decided to wait for you here."

Tim frowned, looked confused. "Good idea."

"I got your message late. I was driving and didn't have the phone turned on…on purpose. Tim, don't do the transfer."

"I already did."

"Can you change your mind? I quit. I quit my job at the Bureau…well, tried to. Jack reworded it as extended leave and told me to make myself available for consultation. I was going to tell you when I got here. I've taken a temporary position at UK teaching Psychology. I'm renting a place out of the city. Let's see how things go before you…give all this up." He waved uncertainly at the old Ford and the crappy road.

Tim kicked some dirt around with his boot. "You rented a place already?"

A quick nod, a vague gesture east. "By the State Forest out near Owingsville."

"Yeah, I know it. What about your dogs?"

"Just…leave your Harley in the driveway for them to piss on. They'll be happy."

Tim allowed half a grin. "Remember, I don't do this."

"Right. Who's the one transferring to Virginia?"

Tim took a step back, crossed his arms tightly.

"You gonna be happy teaching at UK?"

"Oddly enough, they were…quite excited to have me."

"Probably never seen a resumé like yours."

"Likely not."

A truck went past loudly, more traffic behind it. Will reached out the window and hooked his fingers behind Tim's buckle and pulled him closer. Tim leaned in, crossed his arms on the door and dropped his chin on them. Will messed his hair, left his hand resting on the back of Tim's neck.

"How's your back doing? And your leg?"

"I'm fine. Stitches came out last week." Tim rubbed at the spot. "Back's healing up."

"You want to come with me to see the place I'm renting? I'm…going there to pick up the keys."

Tim moved more dirt around with his boots; toed at a rock long enough for some thinking. "Are you sure about this?"

"There's some decent trout fishing in Kentucky and...it's a ways from Quantico. You have no idea…just how appealing that is right now."

"Okay, uh, let's head back to town then and drop your car. I'll drive from there."

Tim walked back to his truck, sat staring stupidly out the windshield watching Will turn his car around. A smile snuck into the cab with him. He texted Art, hoping not to have to leave his job here, his range. The routine was good for him. Art texted back promptly, said he'd misplaced the paperwork anyway.

Tim rolled the smile up into a grin, started the truck and followed Will back to Lexington.


"Ow! What the fuck? Don't bite!"

"But there's this…spot down here, Tim, where your butt cheek and your leg meet – these little wrinkles. I can't help myself."

"You did help yourself."

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Hannibal would be proud. Fuck, that hurt." Tim reached a hand back and down and rubbed at the spot.

Will leaned over and bit the other cheek.

"Jesus Christ, stop that!" Tim jerked and twisted and rolled right off the bed in his hurry to get away, fell with a thud onto the carpet. "Fuck off!"

Will started laughing and it mixed perfectly in the room with Tim's cursing. Tim stayed where he landed on the floor, rubbing a hand on the newer red spot on his ass, the teeth marks. Will's laughter petered out finally and he pulled himself over and hung his head off the side of the bed and grinned at Tim.

"Come back to bed. It's cold."

There was a growl from the rug. "Fuck off."

Will chuckled, teased. "Come here, little Ranger, and let me kiss it better."

"No. No. No. I don't trust you."

"I won't bite."

"Like hell you won't."

Tim frowned, tried to look mean like a badass Ranger on patrol, full battle rattle and armed for the end of the universe. Problem was, he never really felt like a badass on patrol, full battle rattle and armed for the end of the universe, he felt like a lousy actor playing at soldier, a chicken-shit, scaredy-pants, cry-to-your-mama baby who kept it together just to keep his buddies' courage up and hopefully get the lot of them home safe at the end of the day. Fuck he was scared – all the time scared.

Will watched the memories flash past and the courage fail and fall and it crushed the mirth. He slid down onto the floor beside Tim and pulled him close and tight then yanked the blanket down over them from the bed and held on until he felt Tim relax. He worked his way down Tim's back kissing the cool skin and the knife scar and the other scars, then the bite marks, one and two, and then he draped an arm across Tim's waist and laid his head on Tim's shoulder and breathed in and out slowly and contentedly and felt Tim relax a little more.

"I'm going to clear out some drawers for you and half the closet so you don't have to leave your clothes in a...bag when you're here. Maybe then you'll stop pretending you don't do this," said Will.

"I don't do this, remember?"

"Yeah, I think you've told me once…or twice."

"You never listen." Tim turned over and shoved his hands in Will's hair, played with the curls. "It's your turn to make coffee. I did it yesterday."

"Get back into bed. I'll bring some up."

"Uh-uh, I'm coming down. I don't want your dogs fucking pissing on my bike."

"I can't believe you're riding your bike already. Winter's not even over."

"And I want the top drawer."

"You are such a princess."

"Only on Saturdays."

"It's Sunday."

"You're making me soft."


The End

Author's note: Any opinions expressed by the characters do not reflect the author's viewpoints on the subject. Virginia is a lovely state. Thanks to anyone who read and I've saved some Hallowe'en candy for anyone who reviewed. Chocolate or chewies? You have to come to Canada to collect...